“Ah d-don’t understand,” Maria stuttered. She stared wide-eyed at the innocuous items before her; Logan had said it, but in her heart she hadn’t wanted to believe Professor Xavier would be so cruel as to with hold a cure from her. “Y’all had the cure all this time and ya kept it from me?” Marie almost didn’t recognize her own voice; it had grown quite shrill as she spoke.
Hank’s face was first shocked and then embarrassed, “no, child. Heavens, these are not cures. At best they are stop-gaps.”
“Explain it to her, Fuzz-ball,” Logan growled as he bracketed her shoulders with his hands.
“To put it simply,” Hank began in lecture-mode. “Mutations in fully formed life forms can no more be ‘cured’ than can eye or hair color. These things can be manipulated on a cellular level in undeveloped genetic material but are irreversible once the being has been formed and the trait manifested.”
“But they was sayin’ on the news that-“
“I’m sorry, Rogue.” Hank interrupted her as gently as he could, “There is no miracle cure that can remove your mutation. Mutations are congenital, that means that the predisposition is present at birth, and though the condition can be altered artificially, suppressed or augmented, it cannot be eradicated.”
“Then- Then I won’t ever be free of this-this-“
Seeing the tears pooling in Rogues eyes Hank sighed, “Dear child, you need not be sad.” Flashing an encouraging smile he pushed both of the items he’d gathered earlier toward her. “This device is a neuo-implant; which, is designed to be surgically placed intra-cranially.”
“Over your rotting corpse,” Logan’s menacing growl startled both Rogue and Hank. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Logan would surely make the statement reality if he tried to implant the device. Secretly, Hank was pleased; he felt the inhibitor to be a barbaric machination. “And that,” Logan asked as he lifted his chin to indicate the glass vial.
“This is a specimen obtained quite recently from a being seeking asylum here,” Hank handed the container to Rogue and immediately the bright blue pulsing goo turned pallid green. “As you can see the being has highly developed mimicry skills; as even this severed tissue is able to take on the physical characteristics of those in close proximity.”
“You keep saying being,” Logan ground out arching a brow in question.
“Come now, Logan, surely you know that there are many things under heaven,” Hank chided gently. “This particular being has uncharted mimicry capabilities and has unparalleled telepathic and cognitive abilities.”
Rogue stared at the sickly green substance with a frown, “What will this do?”
“It is my hypothesis that should you let your mutation absorb the residual life force found in this tissue it would be the impetus for a leap forward in the progression of your mutation. Xavier and I have often postulated that the inability to control your rapidly manifesting powers must be psychological in nature. Either some trauma occurred that has convinced your subconscious that to be incapable of touch is the only way to protect yourself or it might be as simple as having not gained sufficient control of your own brain in order to allow absorption, assimilation and control. Either way, touching the tissue in that container and extracting every ampoule of cognizance will unlock centers of your brain that are necessary to control your.”
“That sounds positively rosy,” Logan countered, his hands tightening slightly on her shoulders.
“Don’t get me wrong; side effects are a given,” Hank qualified. “As with any finagling of one’s DNA there is the chance that the situation will inadvertently make things worse, but even with the risks and the possibility of failure I believe that this will be what Rogue has been searching for so fervently.”
“What sort of side effects are you talking about?” Marie’s voice was calm and her hand steady as she held the vial up for a closer look.
“I compiled a chart of probable outcomes and Cerebro ran projected variations, listing any and all permutations.”
Hank pulled a thick sheave of computer print outs from a nearby drawer. “The sheer number of probable-“
“Stop,” Logan held up a hand. “Just hit the highlights.”
“Such as,” Hank asked with an insulted air about him.
“Such as,” Rogue answered for Logan, “Could it kill me, will I turn this horrid shade of green and could I end up in the Mutant’s version of a loony bin?”
Hank chuckled at that, “No, maybe for a short time and only if you wish to visit one.”
“So, if it won’t kill her, turn her into a leprechaun or drive her crazy, what are the top three most likely outcomes?”
“There is a 95% chance that the absorption will unlock parts of the brain never before accessed enabling Rogue the ability to categorize the usurped psyche, manifest previously absorbed mutations and effectively turn her mutation on and off.” Hank prattled on for a moment before ending with, “In only 3% of the projections was Rogue able to utilize the shape-shifting or rather the mimicry aspects to any real advantage.”
Logan could feel Marie’s pulse pounding beneath her clothes and he knew that the siren call of control over her mutation was echoing through her brain. So, it was hardly a surprise when she blurted, “What do ah have to do?”
“Give us a minute, Henry.” Logan ordered sternly.
“Of course,” the furred man left through the same door they’d entered only minutes before.
“Logan,” Marie turned to face him dislodging her hood as she readied herself for a fight. “Ya have no right to make my decision for me.”
The man in question simply raised his hand to forestall any further blustering on Marie’s part. “I’m not your father, so you're right there, I don’t have the right. What I am though is your friend and I thought that as your friend we could discuss what all this means.”
Marie blushed, and glanced away from his face for a moment. “Ah’m sorry…That was wrong of me to jump to conclusions.”
“Its water, Marie, just like all the times I bit your head off after a long trip to nowhere and finding nothing.”
“Thanks,” she smiled her sweet smile; the one that never failed to burn a hole through his heart.
“You’re welcome,” he smiled, tucking the silvery-white lock of hair behind her ear. “As your friend I need to say that I hope you aren’t thinking of going through with this for some boy.”
“Ah’m not,” she denied. “I realized last night that Bobby has feelings for Kitty. He took her ice skating and kissed her…We’re through.”
“Not that I am trying to change your mind about Ice Prick, but guys don’t necessarily have to have feelings for a girl to kiss her and sadly most guys think that feelings originate below their belt.”
“Yeah,” she blushed prettily and smacked Logan on the shoulder. “Ah get the picture, Sugar. Ah ain’t doin’ this fer Bobby or anyone else. Ah hate not bein’ able to touch and be touched; it’s like ah am trapped in my own body and no one can reach me and I can’t reach them. I need this, Logan.”
Logan nodded, “Then I want you to absorb some of my healing before you try absorbing that goo.”
“No, ah can’t do tha-,” Marie tried to deny him, but he stepped closer to her cupping her cheeks with her hair as protection.
“I promised to take care of you,” he spoke determinedly.
“Ya have,” Marie sighed. “You have taken care of me, but I need to take care of you, too.”
“Marie,” Logan spoke almost desperately. “Things are heating up and when it hits the fan it is going to be one massive shit storm; I need to know you’ll have my healing when you convert. Please, darlin’, let me do this.”
Looking into his eyes Marie could see Logan’s desperation and it was kind of thrilling in a way having a man like him desperate for her welfare. She nodded, “But only if ya promise not to touch me again after the goo and only for a few seconds. I don’t want to kill ya or put you in a coma either.”
“Thank you,” Logan smiled, a genuine smile, and then he leaned down and kissed her.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hank gives Rogue a crash course in Mutation Science.
Chapter End Notes:
Okay, this is an a AU fic and I am bastardizing an amazing amount of science to make my story line work. Sorry, if any actual science types read this and weep.